


Fever Dreams

by Jemisard



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemisard/pseuds/Jemisard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylar was looking for something new. And he found it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever Dreams

It was just another door in just another apartment block like every other he’d been in. He knocked just the same as always, affixing his friendly smile just before the door cracked open, held closed over by the same gold chain they all had.

Normally, an adult answered the door. Whether he was there for them or not, it was always an adult. Which was what made this one different.

“Hello?”

He looked down to the little girl. “Why, hello there. My name is Zane, I’m from the gas company. Are your parents home?”

She looked up at him, frowning slightly and shaking her head. “My parents aren’t here. But my guardian is.” She looked back into the room. “He’s asleep though.”

He glanced to the chain. One more shot. In and out silently if possible. “Well then, we don’t want to wake him up, do we? Do you mind if I come in and check your gas pipes quickly? We’re checking everyone.”

“I don’t know. I should ask.” She shut the door on him.

She. Shut. The. Door.

He glared at where the chain was and listened to it slide across and fall open as the girl walked across the room and started speaking. “Are you awake? The gas man is here, he wants to come in. Mohinder?”

His hand fell still on the door handle.

There was no reply. Nothing but soft panting and a slight moan and then the footsteps were heading back.

The door opened. He just dropped his hand in time. “He’s not well, you’ll have to come back later.”

He listened closer. He could hear the heartbeat now, racing too hard and fast. “Is he all right?”

“Yes.” She frowned at him. “Mohinder’s going to be fine. He’s a geneticist.”

Part of him wanted to slap the girl for the sheer nonsense of that statement, but he had to grab the moment presented to him. “Mohinder... Suresh?”

Her eyes went wide. “Yes. How’d you know that? Are you like-” She went quiet and then looked back into the room.

“I know Mohinder. We went on a road trip together.” It was so easy to say. Why was he saying it? “I was helping him with his research, but then I had to go back to work. What’s wrong with him?”

He understood her hesitation to trust, but it was annoying. “He got sick at work. I think he’s got the flu. I’m not meant to go too near him in case I get sick too.”

If it was just the flu, why was his heart racing and his breath rattling? And why should he care? “Did you call a doctor?”

“He is a doctor. He said he’s not sick, sick.”

“Does he wake up? Because if he doesn’t, he’s really sick.” The concern sounds genuine. Zane would be concerned. Zane could have cared. A lot. About that man.

She was silent and finally, she shook her head. “Not really. He wakes up, but he’s not really awake.”

He could force his way in. Take what he wanted, then decide what to do with Mohinder. He should do that.

“Could I come in and check? I’m not a doctor, but I’m.... I helped Mohinder with his work. On special people.” He looks her in the eye. “He helped me.”

The earnestness was sickening close to honest, but it must have shown, because she opened the door. “He’s been sick like this for two days. I was thinking about calling one of his friends, but he said he wasn’t sick sick.”

He ignored her, stepping into the apartment. It was small, and smelt like sickness and incense.

And on the couch, covered in a light blanket, was Mohinder.

He looked incredible. Sweat slicked and fevered, curls damp against his forehead, he looked like something from a dream.

The girl pushed past him to shake Mohinder’s shoulder. “Mohinder. Wake up. Zane’s here.”

The dark eyes fluttered open and sank shut again after a moment. His heart rate was barely changing.

“He’s very sick.” He almost blew it. Almost said her name. “What’s your name?”

“Molly.”

“All right, Molly. I want you to go and raid the freezer for peas, or beans, or something like an ice pack.” He pulled back to blanket and made a show of laying his head on Mohinder’s chest to listen. Felt his heartbeat instead and knew he could just force it to slow down. Didn’t.

The girl ran off to the kitchen and he took the time to place his fingers over the pulse points in Mohinder’s neck and just _cool_.

“Here, Zane. I found chinese green mix in the freezer.”

“That’ll do.” He took the bag and packed it behind the other’s man’s neck, causing him to stir again, whimpering and clutching onto the front of the gas works uniform. 

“Did I do the wrong thing?”

Possibly. But Zane doesn’t say that sort of thing. “No, you did what he told you to, which is what you should do.” He looked around, took in the new map, with no pins but full of pinholes, the laptop on the desk, several doors leading off in different directions.

“Do you have a bath?”

She gave him a strange look. “Yes....”

“He’s got a fever. We need to cool him down.”

“Mohinder says fever is your body fighting.”

Mohinder would. “He’s too hot, Molly. If he gets too hot, he’ll d-” No, not die. Zane wouldn’t say that. “Dehydrate. And get worse.”

She looked doubtful, but pointed to the bathroom. “Bath’s in there.”

“Good girl. Go and put in the plug and turn on the cold water.” He busied himself with undoing Mohinder’s shirt carefully.

“What are you doing?”

“Cooling him down until he can go in the bath.” Were children always this annoying? “Do you have sports drinks?”

“We have tea. And OJ.”

Did Mohinder have something against having useful things in his house? “All right, I want you to half fill the bath with cold water. I’m going to go and get some sports drinks, because they’ll help him get better.” Cutting off the inevitable question.

“And tell your work you’re not working?”

“Yes. Of course. But Mohinder’s more important than a phone call.”

“Molly?”

They both looked down to the fevered man. “I’m here. And so’s Zane. He’s going to help you get better. Like you helped me.”

“Zane’s not-” Mohinder’s eyes closed again. “Zane’s gone.”

“But he came back, Mohinder. It’ll be all right. Right, Zane?”

He smiled at his perfect, little accomplice. “Right.”

*~*~*

He went down and picked up sports drinks, also buying a candy bar on whim for the girl. That was pretty normal, comfort food for a little girl.

Afterwards, he doubled back and bought a couple of frozen pizzas. The kid was probably hungry and he hadn’t eaten today.

When he got back, the bath was run and the girl was sitting on the desk, pushing a pin into an atlas over and over again. “You went back.”

“I got food for you.” He suddenly realised he shouldn’t know. “How did you know I doubled back?” He doesn’t look at her, instead putting the bags down and taking out one of the drinks.

“It’s what I do. I find people. And since I didn’t know all your name, I focused on what you look like and how you look at Mohinder and I found you.”

Well now. Wasn’t that just a sweet power? He slid an arm under Mohinder’s shoulders and gently tugged him upright with a just bit of encouragement with his telekinesis. “Go and put the pizzas on the table and the drinks in the fridge.”

“What are you going to do?”

He popped the lid of the bottle and tried to stir Mohinder to consciousness. Or something close enough for him to drink. “Put him in the bath.”

“He’s dressed. He can’t have a bath in his clothes.”

“I know. Go to the kitchen.”

Dawning realisation hit her and she scrambled out with the bags to the kitchen. He smiled to himself and turned back to the doctor. “She’s a lovely girl, Mohinder.”

“Zane’s gone.” The eyes that looked at him were not lucid in the slightest, too wide and dark and bright. It was breath taking. “Molly...”

“She’s fine. And you will be too.” He fed him more of the drink, holding the bottle with a thought while he started stripping him of his clothes. It only felt right. Personal, even, that he do that with his hands.

A soft groan was his only response as Mohinder faded out again. No matter. With the girl in the kitchen waiting for him, he had the luxury of lifting and stripping the other man efficiently, noting the unhealthy but lovely gleam on his skin. Moving him took only a thought, walking to the bathroom and lowering him into the water.

He cried out and flailed at first, prompting little footsteps to run to the door. “What did you do to him?”

“Put him in the bath. Did you find the candy bar? That’s for you.”

She paused, peering around the door frame to look at him, kneeling by the bath. “Thank you, Zane.”

He smiled at her. “You’re welcome, Molly.” And turned away again, carefully gathering water in his hands, cooling it and then dribbling it over Mohinder’s chest and face.

“What do you do, Zane?”

He glanced at her. “I’m a gas man.”

“No. Not like that. I find people. What do you do?”

He had to pick something she couldn’t associate with him. No telekinesis. No cryokinesis. Definitely no... whatever it was her father had given him. What about information absorption? No, not showy enough. “I manipulate ferrous metal.”

She looked a bit confused.

“I’m magnetic.”

“Oh. Cool.” She crept in a bit further and looked at Mohinder’s face. “He’s trembling.”

“He thinks he’s cold, but this is good for him.” Already, his heartbeat was slowing to something resembling normal, and while he was shivering, he wasn’t flushed and sweating at least.

And the water might remove the smell of sickness. He hated that smell.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” She was getting annoying again. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not entirely.”

He didn’t manage to hold the smile reflex at her answer. “Good answer. But I’m not going to hurt Mohinder. He was the only person who ever-”

Believed. Trusted. Smiled at him?

“Yeah. He’s good like that.” The girl looked to the kitchen. “I can put on the oven for the pizzas. He won’t have to stay in there long, right?”

“No’ much...”

“Mohinder?”

His eyes were open again, but no less clear. “I saw, it’s an ‘s’. It’s the RNA.”

“Zane, what’s he talking about?”

He didn’t know. But it sounded familiar, somehow. “He’s just saying whatever he thinks of.”

“Zane? Zane, you were very nice to me before, before-”

“I know.” He slid a hand behind the doctor’s neck, keeping him steady above water. “But I’m here and so is Molly.”

“Molly?”

“Yeah, Molly.” He was careful lowering him down further so the dark curls started to soak in water. Wet hair would help keep him cool. “She’s a good girl, looking after you.”

“Yes.” And he was out for the count again. 

He was sort of glad. It wasn’t entirely pleasant seeing Mohinder’s sharp wit and humour dulled to this. “Go put the oven on, Molly. I’ll get Mohinder into his bed.”

“Okay.” She disappeared out of the bathroom. He wondered if hearing Mohinder call him Zane and refer to their time together would warm her up any.

No matter. He just had to get Mohinder back to functional. Then he’d decide what to do about everything.

*~*~*

“Zane? What did Mohinder mean ‘before’?”

He looked over to her, chewing slowly on his pizza. “Mm?”

“He said you were nice to him, before. Before what?”

He used the time he needed to chew and swallow to think. Before he found out I wasn’t Zane and had killed his father wasn’t going to cut it. Maybe he should kill her now.

Except, he’d sooner just eat pizza right now and listen to Mohinder sleeping in his bedroom, pulse and breathing normal at last. If he killed her now, he’d have to get some serious eating in and she’d wake up Mohinder screaming and it just wasn’t worth it.

“Zane?”

“We had an argument. About adult things.” He shrugged. “It was wrong. You shouldn’t let your friends drive you away over disagreements, right?”

“Right.” She pushed her plate away. “I’m full.”

“Put it in the fridge then.”

She did as she was told. For a child, she wasn’t too bad. “Can I watch tv?”

“Sure. Just not too loud. Mohinder needs some real sleep, without the fever.” And he hated having to filter when there was no need.

“I won’t.” She disappeared off to the living room. Moments later, the tv turned on and then down.

She seemed to like him. It was something he wasn’t used to. He had, in all fairness, come here to kill her, but he was finding the idea of killing her less appealing the longer he was here.

He liked the way she spoke of Mohinder. It reminded him of Zane’s eagerness and friendliness. And he thought that Mohinder probably showed that beautiful, soft side when he was with her; that bemused, heartfelt smile that ached with caring.

She giggled at something on the tv. He decided to clean up out here and then go and check on the doctor. He didn’t like leaving unnecessary mess. 

As he washed up, he thought some more about it all. Mohinder had hurt him. A lot. But, he supposed he was right to be upset over his father. Except Chandra was a terrible father and possibly a worse human being, always looking for something flashier, something more.

The water in the sink froze solid.

Chandra had deserved it. But- Mohinder’s loyalty wasn’t bad. Just misguided. He thought he owed Chandra. He hadn’t seen that he wasn’t good enough because Chandra was broken. Like his own mother.

He heard the murmur from the bedroom and was already in the doorway of the kitchen with a bottle of drink in hand by the time Molly had turned to look. “Zane? I think- oh.”

“It’s okay, Molly. He’s just waking up a bit probably.”

“You have good hearing.”

“I do.” Nothing more as he walked past her and to the bedroom door, looking in. “Mohinder?”

“Zane?”

“Yeah, buddy, Zane.” He came in and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I thought you were dead.” A dark hand came up to pat his cheek awkwardly. He caught it there, lacing their fingers. He leant down, not worried about getting sick. He could see Mohinder’s eyes struggle to focus, but the way he had relaxed at the proximity...

He remembered. He knew. And he relaxed. That was what he had needed to know. Not that he had known he needed it until it occurred to him. Somewhat like when he’d taken his first power.

“Is Molly all right?”

“Yeah. She’s good. Right, Molly?”

From the doorway, the girl nodded mutely.

“We’re both good. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” The breathy weakness of Mohinder’s voice made him want to cradle him. Crush the weakness from him and hold the strong. “I’m thirsty.”

With some manoeuvring, Mohinder was righted enough to drink from the bottle, hands trembling. He slumped into the pillows afterwards, eyes closed again.

“Just sleep. I’m sure your fever will have broken when you wake up.” And once the fever broke, he’d go back to being Mohinder and he’d have to think long and hard about the girl.

He stood up, tucking the sheets back up around the dark shoulders and left the room, ushering her out to the living room again. 

She gazed up at him, with a look that was full of... what? Hope? “He’s getting better?”

“He’s getting better.” He nodded slowly. “He should be more aware when he wakes up.”

“You really like Mohinder.”

“I do.” He did. Really. It was strange.

“Will you come and visit again once he isn’t sick?”

“I don’t know. I hope so. Do you want me to come and visit?” The answer didn’t mean anything. He just wanted to hear what she’d say it.

“Yeah. Mohinder needs more friends. He spends too much time playing with his laptop doing work and I like that you talk to me like an adult and you’re nice, even if you’re kind of weird and have funny eyebrows.”

He didn’t whether to laugh or kill her here and now. Mostly, he felt amused. And a bit pleased that she liked him.

“I’m not trying to be mean. But you have funny eyebrows. But I like them too.”

She went back to watch tv.

He decided that he wasn’t going to kill Molly. He’d just come back after he got Petrelli to pick up her ability.

*~*~*

Dinner was the rest of the pizza and some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He had checked on Mohinder, still fast asleep with a rapidly dropping fever, and left him another bottle of drink for when he next roused.

As he came out, closing the door, Molly was waiting for him, wearing pyjamas and slippers. Kitten slippers he noted.

“Zane? Are you going home now?”

Home? He hadn’t actually thought of it. He just assumed he’d stay until Mohinder woke up properly and asked him to stay on. Come back again. “I don’t know. Why?”

“It’s Tuesday. And Tuesday, Mohinder watches COPS with me.”

He gave her a look.

“Pleeeease, Zane? It’s not fun by yourself. Mohinder won’t mind if you stay a bit more.”

“Just one episode.” And then the next one she begged for. It was a good reason to stay here and stay close.

“Thank you.” She dragged him over to the couch and turned on the tv while he sat down and made himself comfortable.

And she promptly curled up next to him, cuddling close.

He’d suffered worse than COPS and a small, cuddly child.

And she was asleep before it was even half over, anyway. He picked her up and put her to her own bed before settling himself out on the couch.

It was just for tonight. He could bear a night of uncomfortable sleep for this.

*~*~*

He woke up after only a few hours and had to pass the time. He tried to browse Mohinder’s laptop - with limited luck, he could only play games and get notepad to open without a password. And he really didn’t feel like trying to hack Mohinder’s password. It was a matter of trust.

He watched tv for a bit, checked on Molly - dead to the world - and Mohinder who groaned at him and pulled a blanket over his head.

He went home briefly to get some clean clothes and a shower and then walked back, enjoying the early morning air. By the time he got back, Molly was stirring and looking for food, which meant it was breakfast time.

He remembered getting toast a lot as a child. “Do you eat toast?”

“We have cereal. Sometimes Mohinder burns some eggs and then he pulls a face and tells me we’re having cereal. He’s not a very good cook.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. He remembered Mohinder doing something similar with him. “Yeah, well, I know how to cook. So how about you go and get dressed and I make us breakfast. Maybe the smell will wake Mohinder up.”

“Okay.” She took off into her room while he found a fry pan and got eggs frying in it, putting toast in the grill as an after thought.

“Can we keep you?”

“I’m not a pet, Molly.”

“I know. But can we keep you anyway? Mohinder’s really nice and he tries really hard but he can’t do some dad things. Like cook good breakfast. Or fix my jeans. And he works all the time and I get lonely.”

He looked away from the frying pan to the little girl. “You know I have my own apartment.”

“So? You ran off with Mohinder before, right? You can run away with us now, right?”

He let her win him over. He wanted her to want him here. It’d make Mohinder happy to see that she had won him over. “Well... maybe. It is Mohinder’s place, he has to have a say too.”

He knew that say would be yes. And he’d have two people who-

Liked him? Cared for him? Didn’t care about who he was?

“I bet he’ll be happy. He sometimes looks sad, and he said it was because the man who killed our daddies took someone he cared about away from him. That was you, right? That’s why he thought you were dead. Because the boogeyman took you away.”

Her conclusions were beautiful, broken things. Just like she and Mohinder were. 

“Yeah. The boogeyman took me away. But I’m here now. No boogeyman.” That would be his little promise. No killing where they were. Just him, not the boogeyman.

From the bedroom, Mohinder moaned.

He slid the eggs onto a plate and handed them to Molly. “Eat up. I’m going to check on Mohinder.”

“Okay.” She settled down, he left her to it, going to the half closed door of the bedroom and looking in.

Mohinder lay in the bed, eyes half open but finally clear of the fever haze. The sheets were rumpled around his hips and he wondered briefly if he was getting the same sickness because he felt a bit too warm.

He came in and sat on the side of the bed. “Mohinder? You’re awake.”

Mohinder’s eyes focused.

And then, started to go wide.


End file.
